


my heart's root

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: my heart's root [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: /slaps roof/ this baby can fit so much self insert in it!, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bartender Damen, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Infidelity, KIND OF it's a very blink and you miss it situation, M/M, also it's not really infidelity? idk, uh guess i should do some slutty tags now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-22 07:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22145971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: ‘I know this is very forward of me, especially considering I don’t really know you,’ Damen said, watching Laurent sip his orange juice. ‘But I like you, Laurent, and I think if you didn’t have a boyfriend, I would invite you back to my apartment.’Laurent sighed. ‘No, that’s –’‘Inappropriate, I know,’ Damen nodded. ‘And I’m so sorry for it.’‘No,’ Laurent said quietly. ‘I was going to say that’s not too forward of you at all.’Damen looked up from where he’d been wiping at something behind the bar, probably trying to hide from Laurent. ‘It’s not?’ he asked.‘No,’ Laurent gave a rueful smile. ‘What’s too forward is me saying if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d say yes.’
Relationships: (unfortunately) - Relationship, Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince), Laurent/Torveld (Captive Prince)
Series: my heart's root [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593976
Comments: 60
Kudos: 495
Collections: treat it tenderly.





	my heart's root

**Author's Note:**

> hello! it's me! back again! (wow!) uh, this has been affectionately saved as the "infidelity fic" on my laptop, but it's severely lacking in that so. idk. anyway! i had a lot of fun writing this, there _is_ a sequel coming (bc i have no self control lol) so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> shitty title but ya know! from the english translation of trøllabundin by eivør which is an absolute bop in any language!
> 
> also someone remind me to stop giving laurent the same degrees as me bc shit's getting way too introspective lmaO ~~it's 3am im barely conscious rn can u tell~~

Laurent was happy. Truly happy. His life was on track, he had a boyfriend that loved him, and he was on a plane down to Ios to celebrate finishing his degree. It had been a graduation gift from his boyfriend – the one who loved him – and Laurent was happy.

Truly.

Or so he was trying so very hard to convince himself.

There was nothing wrong with Torveld. He was a perfectly nice guy, he looked after Laurent and cooked him dinner when he was too busy writing and polishing essays to do it himself. He put up with Laurent, in a way that made it seem like he enjoyed Laurent’s sometimes ridiculous behaviour – his habits, his closed off emotions, his need to sometimes just be _away_ from Torveld. He took it all in his stride, and Laurent considered himself lucky to have found someone.

The only thing was that Laurent didn’t think people in love had to try so hard to convince themselves they were in love.

Sometimes he found himself wondering what it would be like if he broke up with Torveld, if he kicked him out of the apartment and Laurent went back to having books piled against the walls, instead of having new shelves built for them. If his plants covered every spare inch of shelf space, instead of having their numbers limited. He wondered what it would be like to sleep alone in his bed again, to come home to an empty apartment and not count down to when he knew his peace would be broken.

He wondered if he could go back to feeling unlovable. He wondered if that was the only reason he kept Torveld around.

Torveld had done a good job organising this trip, however, and Laurent felt a small surge of affection for him as they took the elevator up to the higher floors and walked into a perfectly minimalist and luxurious hotel room.

The hotel was close enough to the beach that Laurent could hear the faint crashing of waves from the balcony that looked out over the ocean. Their plane had landed in the evening, and the moon was rising above the sea, casting its light over the calm water.

‘Do you like it?’ Torveld asked, coming up behind Laurent and placing a gentle hand on his hip.

Laurent smiled and turned to him. ‘I do. This must be an expensive –’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Torveld interrupted, kissing his cheek. ‘You deserve the best.’

Laurent bit his lip as he looked back to the water. Torveld wasn’t the one with… _the money_ in this relationship. He worked and paid for his own things, but Laurent’s sizeable trust fund paid for all his bills, and he wouldn’t have blinked at the price tag for this room. Torveld, however, was different, having worked his way to where he was financially. ‘Thank you,’ he said eventually. ‘Did you have anything planned for us to do while we’re here?’

Torveld shrugged, leaning against the railing of the balcony. ‘I thought we could spend the day in bed tomorrow, now you’re finished with school and we can finally breathe.’

Laurent didn’t want to do that. ‘You know, there are a lot of places in Ios I want to go. There are so many museums –’

‘Laurent,’ Torveld sighed. ‘I know you love museums, but I don’t want to spend the next week in stuffy buildings inhaling dust. I want to spend time with _you_ , and just you. I don’t want to fight statues for your attention.’

Laurent took a deep breath. This was a touchy subject, he knew, but he also knew he would go insane if he had to spend a full week in Torveld’s company with no time for himself. ‘How about this,’ he said, trying not to sound like he was desperate to get rid of him. ‘The old palace has a range of activities. They have a gallery I can go to, and they have cooking classes and other practical things that you can do. Why don’t we do that tomorrow?’

‘You want to spend our first day here apart?’ Torveld asked, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at Laurent.

‘Torveld, don’t,’ Laurent said tiredly. ‘You should know me by now. I _need –_ ’

‘You need alone time sometimes and it’s not me, it’s you,’ Torveld said, in the same flat tone as always. ‘Yes. I know. But the first day?’

‘We’re only here for a week, I don’t think we should spend an entire day in a hotel room.’

Torveld ground his teeth together and turned back around, away from Laurent. ‘Fine. We’ll do that. Maybe we can do something _I_ want to do tomorrow night, then.’

‘Like?’

‘We’re close to bars and restaurants, maybe we could go out for dinner and a drink or two.’

‘I don’t –’

‘Like bars and drinking,’ Torveld rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah. I know.’

Laurent tilted his head, studying Torveld for a moment. He knew that expression. ‘What is it?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No, there’s something, and you’re going to sit on it until you explode. What is it?’

Torveld turned to him sharply. ‘I wish sometimes you would just be normal.’

Laurent balked. ‘Normal.’

‘Normal,’ Torveld repeated. ‘It’s like you don’t want to spend time with me. I’m your _boyfriend_ , and sometimes it feels like you don’t even _like_ me, let alone love me.’

Laurent hummed. Another sore point, one Torveld pulled out in every fight they had. _You don’t love me._ Laurent had never said he loved Torveld. He’d said _I do_ a few times when he had asked, but he’d never said the words, and wasn’t sure he would. The thought almost made him laugh.

Torveld was still waiting for a response, but Laurent knew how to navigate these waters.

‘I’m going to shower,’ he said calmly, ‘before you say something you regret.’

He could feel Torveld’s eyes on his back as he went back into the room and opened his suitcase, searching through for his toiletries and clean pyjamas, before retreating to the bathroom. He locked the door.

As he methodically brushed and twirled his hair into a bun, cleaned his teeth and stripped off to step into the steaming shower, he found himself thinking of his apartment again. Instead of wondering, he found himself fantasising about sleeping alone in his bed.

This had to end.

***

They didn’t go to the old palace. Torveld had apparently felt bad after their argument last night – a small one, for them – and had gone downstairs as Laurent showered, organising with the front desk to go horse riding. Apparently, he’d paid extra to have them pull some strings and call the owner after hours.

Laurent had really enjoyed himself, in fairness. It had been a long time since he’d been able to go riding, and with the added bonus that he and Torveld didn’t really need to speak to each other much, he had a nice time. The horse was beautiful and fast, and immediately made Laurent smile to see.

The picnic lunch had been a little rough, with Torveld still trying to make things up to Laurent, and trying to make conversation, full of compliments and things Laurent supposed should have been romantic – chocolate covered strawberries, wine (which he didn’t drink) and Torveld trying to feed him bits of food. It was stunted and awkward, and Laurent thought it fit perfectly into their relationship.

‘I’m not going to make you suffer much tonight,’ Torveld said, as they arrived back at the hotel. ‘Front desk said there’s a nice bar and restaurant down the street, so I had them book a reservation for dinner. We can just go across into the bar afterwards, and not need to worry much about it. Okay?’

‘Sure,’ Laurent nodded. ‘I’m going to shower.’

‘Can I –’

‘No,’ Laurent said quickly, trying to think up an excuse. ‘I need to wash my hair.’

Torveld sighed. ‘Okay, but don’t be too long, I need to shower before we leave as well.’

Laurent nodded and slipped back into the bathroom. Locked the door again. He tried to take his time, but he was used to being efficient, and it still only took him twenty minutes, going as slow as he could.

He shoved himself into one of the robes hanging in the bathroom, tying it tightly around his waist before he stepped out and made a beeline for the wardrobe, where he’d hung his shirts and slacks on hangers.

Torveld didn’t say anything as he went into the bathroom, and Laurent knew he’d only have a few minutes of peace before he came back out.

It was almost a mad dash for his phone to text his brother, just in case Torveld came back out to retrieve something. He was always suspicious of Laurent texting Auguste.

**_Me  
_ ** _I don’t think I can do this anymore_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Are you okay? Do you need me to call?_

**_Me  
_ ** _No  
T just in the shower. Not much time._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Are you enjoying Ios?_

**_Me  
_ ** _That’s what I’m saying  
I’d enjoy it more if he wasn’t here._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Oh.  
Are you going to end it with him?  
You’ve been gone one day._

**_Me  
_ ** _I know. I don’t know if I should?  
Not while we’re here.  
I wouldn’t feel… good about it. After the effort he put in._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _You can’t make yourself love someone you don’t, Laurent._

**_Me  
_ ** _I know that too.  
But I’ve still been trying so hard to._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Laurent, you would be better off alone and happy.  
Not miserable and in a relationship just bc you think you should be._

**_Me  
_ ** _Rationally, I know that, and I’ve been telling myself that.  
Irrationally, I’m scared no one will ever love me again._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _That’s ridiculous, Laurent.  
You’re young. You’ll find your person._

**_Me  
_ ** _And it’s not Torveld._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _And it’s not Torveld._

Laurent sighed, sitting on the edge of the desk and looking towards the bathroom. The water was shut off.

**_Me  
_ ** _I need to go._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Let me know how it goes._

Laurent shoved himself into some clothes quickly, thankful he’d paired shirts and slacks together in the wardrobe, and slipped his phone into his pocket, just in case Auguste sent another incriminating text.

Torveld opened the bathroom door and looked Laurent up and down, where he was standing and waiting to go back in and deal with his hair. ‘You look nice,’ he said softly. ‘Blue always brings out your eyes.’

Laurent looked down to his slacks. Was it possible for slacks to bring out the colour in your eyes? ‘Thank you,’ he said, ducking in and going straight to the mirror and the toiletries on the sink.

Torveld had left his case open, his floss and hair products spilling out onto the sink, comb and razor sticking haphazardly into the air. Laurent’s eyes drifted into the other contents as he tilted his head to brush his hair, and he tried to fight the feeling in his chest at the lube and selection of condoms tucked into a side pocket.

Could Laurent play off as being sick for the rest of this trip?

‘Laurent?’ Torveld poked his head around the door. ‘We need to leave soon.’

Laurent nodded, setting down the brush and quickly putting on some cologne, before heading back to deal with shoes.

‘This place is supposed to be really good,’ Torveld said, as they took the elevator back downstairs. ‘The front desk recommended it especially for their modern takes on traditional dishes.’

Laurent nodded. ‘I’m not feeling too well, Torveld. Please don’t be upset if I need to leave early.’

‘Oh?’ Torveld looked concerned. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Just… my stomach is… not the best.’

‘Okay. We’ll see if they have a bland salad or rice or something. Bread. I don’t know.’

‘Yeah, salad,’ Laurent agreed. ‘Something green.’

‘It’s only a short walk,’ Torveld said, as the doors dinged open and he started leading the way through reception and onto the street. ‘It’s a nice night.’

Laurent looked up to the stars, only just beginning to peek through the fading blue as evening turned to night. The air was still warm, scented by the open doors of restaurants lining the street. ‘It’s a beautiful night.’

‘Is the fresher air making you feel any better?’

It was. ‘Not really. Too many food smells.’

Torveld hummed. ‘Hopefully the restaurant isn’t overwhelming.’

‘Hopefully.’

They walked in silence for the brief few minutes it took to find the place Torveld was looking for, and he waved Laurent in ahead to wait to be attended.

There was a loud whoop from the other side of the restaurant – the bar, Laurent supposed – and he saw a group of large Akielon men embracing and laughing.

Laurent raised an eyebrow as he watched them, before following Torveld to their table in front of a window. They were seated by their hostess, who said she’d return in a few minutes with water for the table, and Laurent was once again left alone with Torveld.

‘Is it better by the window?’ Torveld asked. ‘With the air?’

Laurent tilted his menu down to peer at Torveld over the top. ‘The window doesn’t open.’

Torveld looked to the window in surprise. ‘Oh.’

Laurent put the menu back up, and scanned his choices. If he was going to put up with this charade of being sick, he was going to need to follow through with something… bland. He didn’t mind salad though, and while having his dressing on the side was not how he usually liked to eat it, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He found himself looking at Torveld again. Why couldn’t he just love him? Was there something actually _wrong_ with Laurent that he didn’t? That he found himself refusing to? That he almost resented them both for staying together this long?

Laurent was spared having to consider the matter much more by the reappearance of their server, who placed a bottle of iced water on the table and took out her notepad expectantly. ‘Ready to order?’ she asked.

‘I’ll have a glass of the house red and the filet mignon cooked to medium rare,’ Torveld shut his menu with a snap. That wasn’t a modern take on a traditional dish at all. ‘I’m assuming he’ll have the garden salad with no dressing.’

The server looked to Laurent with a raised eyebrow. ‘Garden salad with no dressing?’ she confirmed.

‘I’ll have dressing on the side, thank you, and no tomato, if that’s at all possible.’

‘Absolutely,’ she scribbled something down on her pad. ‘Any drink for you?’

‘A non-alcoholic gingerbeer, if you have some.’

‘We do indeed. Any starters?’

‘Just the focaccia would be great,’ Torveld said, taking Laurent’s menu and handing it and his own back to the server. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll be back soon with the focaccia for you.’

‘So,’ Torveld said, as she disappeared to the kitchens. ‘It’s good to finally get you alone.’

‘We’re not really alone,’ Laurent said, before he could stop himself.

‘I was thinking tomorrow we could go to the old palace? You can do your thing, I can do mine,’ Torveld continued, like Laurent hadn’t even spoken. ‘I know I had my plans for what we’d do here, but I also know you’ll be mad if you don’t see at least one museum or gallery.’

‘Oh, and I’m going to see more than one. Arles doesn’t –’

‘– Have enough Akielon items in its museums,’ Torveld finished. ‘I’ve heard.’

Laurent fought the angry blush he could feel in his cheeks. ‘Well, it’s true.’

Torveld hummed. ‘I’m sure.’

‘Why are you always so dismissive of my interests?’ Laurent blurted. ‘What do you have against me going to museums?’

‘I don’t understand why you want to spend so much of your time looking at old things.’

Laurent blinked. ‘Sorry, you know what grad program I’ve enrolled in for next year, right?’

‘Yes, and while I support you, I don’t know why.’

Laurent scoffed in disbelief. ‘Yeah, I’m sure I haven’t told you about a hundred times already.’

‘I think they’re boring –’

‘And you’re allowed to think that, but that doesn’t give you any right to _shit_ on me for my choices,’ Laurent hissed, pushing his chair from the table to stand. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

‘Laurent,’ Torveld groaned, following Laurent from the table to the bar, where Laurent slid onto one of the stools and spun it around to face Torveld as he appeared at his elbow. ‘Come on, you know I don’t mean it like that.’

‘You do, though,’ Laurent said. ‘I told you I’ve had my eye set on this program for _years_ , and you coming in and telling me you think it’s boring isn’t going to make me change my mind.’

‘Why not?’ Torveld asked. ‘I’m your boyfriend.’

‘So? It’s my life.’

‘Laurent, you don’t even _need_ to –’

‘Torveld, I swear to god, if you say I don’t need to work, I’m going to lose my temper _very_ swiftly.’

‘Laurent, baby –’

‘Don’t call me baby.’

Torveld clenched his jaw, but didn’t argue. ‘Do you even want to have dinner?’

‘Not particularly, no.’

Torveld nodded. ‘I’m going to cancel our orders. I’ll see you back at the hotel.’

Laurent ignored him, turning towards the bartender who appeared in front of him. ‘Vodka.’

‘A shot?’ the bartender asked.

Laurent watched Torveld walk away. ‘Please,’ he muttered, taking the first shot and downing it with a grimace. ‘Just keep them coming.’

The bartender raised an eyebrow, but poured out another one. ‘Do you want a chaser or something?’

‘Can I get one more shot then a vodka orange juice?’ Laurent said. ‘With plenty of vodka.’

‘Coming right up,’ the bartender said.

**_Me  
_ ** _I hate this I hate this I hate this  
Why didn’t you tell me to stop this sooner? You’re a shit brother_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _I did  
You didn’t listen to me_

**_Me  
_ ** _He’s trying to convince me not to do grad school again_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Wow on second thoughts, why leave such a supportive partner?_

**_Me  
_ ** _I’m really not in the mood, Auguste._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Just go back to your hotel and end things  
You can afford an earlier ticket home_

**_Me  
_ ** _But I want to be here, just not with him._

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Then get your own hotel room and ignore him  
Change your flight for a few days later  
I’ll meet him at your apartment when he gets back and help him get his shit_

**_Me  
_ ** _Okay I take it back  
You’re a great brother  
Please never let me speak to him again_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _How messy do you think it’s going to be?_

**_Me  
_ ** _Messy.  
Is it TMI to say I saw condoms in his stuff and nearly retched_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Fuck, that’s rough  
Let me know when he’s getting back  
Or I could just camp out at your apartment_

**_Me  
_ ** _At this point I don’t care  
Do either  
Just make sure you water my plants!!_

‘Vodka orange juice,’ the bartender announced. ‘You doing okay?’

Laurent looked up from the drink in front of him. The bartender was… Laurent hadn’t noticed it when he’d sat down and started demanding drinks, but the bartender was _hot_. His hair was curly – longer on top and a little closer cut on the sides – and it looked so _soft_ and Laurent wanted to touch it.

Torveld didn’t like Laurent touching his hair, but always insisted on having his fist wrapped –

Laurent swallowed back the bile that rose to his throat. ‘Give me a shot. Please.’

‘Are you sure?’ the bartender asked. ‘You don’t look too good, dude.’

‘It’s just – I thought of something. Someone.’

The bartender studied him for a moment, then pulled something from behind the bar and slapped it in front of Laurent. A menu. ‘Pick some food, order, _then_ I’ll give you another shot. You need something to soak up all this alcohol.’

Laurent sighed and scanned his eyes down the menu. It was in Akielon, and he wasn’t as fast at reading it as he was at speaking it. He hummed and pointed at something – some kind of chicken with a side of fries. ‘That.’

The bartender turned his head. ‘Oh. It’s in the common tongue on the other side –’

‘I know Akielon,’ Laurent said flatly. ‘The chicken and fries is good, thank you.’

The bartender nodded and took the menu away, pouring the shot for Laurent and ducking to the window to the kitchens for a moment to place the order. ‘Sorry,’ he said, coming back to Laurent. ‘It’s a habit to assume.’

‘It’s fine,’ Laurent waved a hand dismissively as he took the shot. ‘My boyfriend doesn’t know it.’

‘Is that the guy who was just here with you?’

‘Yep, that’s the bitch.’

The bartender raised an eyebrow. ‘Bitch?’

‘I don’t like him very much today.’

‘Oh?’

Laurent swirled his straw in his drink and glanced up to the bartender. ‘I know it’s like a rite of passage to tell your entire life story to an anonymous bartender, but I’m not that sort of person.’

‘My name’s Damen,’ the bartender said. ‘My favourite food is that chicken you just ordered, I like going to the beach at night because the sound of the waves is almost overbearing and it reminds me of my place in the world, and my last girlfriend cheated on me with my brother, and tonight is their engagement party.’

Laurent blinked in confusion. ‘Oh… okay?’

‘Now I’m not an anonymous stranger anymore,’ Damen grinned. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Laurent,’ Laurent said reluctantly. He looked at Damen for a moment longer, before he rolled his eyes and gave in. ‘My boyfriend – Torveld – brought me here as a surprise for finishing my degree. He’s still trying to make me drop out of grad school and a shot at my dream job because my parents are well off and I don’t need to work if I don’t want to, but he doesn’t understand that I _want_ to. We got here yesterday, and all I want to do is go to museums and galleries but he is essentially here to fuck for a week straight, if the amount of condoms and lube in his luggage are any indication, and whenever I think of him touching me, I want to throw up.’

It was Damen’s turn to blink now, as he processed all of that. Once it seemed to have made sense, he poured out another shot and pushed it to Laurent. ‘That one’s on me.’

‘Thanks,’ Laurent muttered, taking a sip and setting the half-empty shot glass back down. ‘I should break up with him. I know I should, and I want to so badly, but we’re here for a week and I don’t know if it’s good etiquette to break up with someone and ruin an entire trip when I’m not the one who planned it, so I don’t know if he’s made plans or bookings or whatever.’

Damen hummed and looked down the bar. ‘Hold that thought, I’ll be right back.’

Laurent shrugged and finished off his shot, pulling out his phone and finding another text from Auguste.

**_Auguste  
_ ** _I’m already watering them!!!  
Do you have less plants than usual?_

**_Me  
_ ** _Guess whose fault that is_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _Dude you let him take your plants?_

**_Me  
_ ** _No I took them to the house  
They’re in mother’s greenhouse being nursed back to health_

**_Auguste  
_ ** _I bet she loves looking after the grand-plants_

**_Me  
_ ** _That’s exactly what she said, yeah_

‘Boyfriend?’ Damen asked, appearing back on the other side of the bar.

‘No, thankfully,’ Laurent said. ‘Brother.’

‘Good. So you said your boyfriend doesn’t want you to work?’

‘Yeah. Haven’t figured out if it’s because he wants to pay for everything, or if he thinks I should just live off my trust fund.’

Damen hummed. ‘Been there, except it was my ex who thought she didn’t need to work because my trust fund would pay for everything.’

‘You have a trust fund?’ Laurent raised an eyebrow. ‘You work in a bar.’

‘Actually, I own the restaurant.’

Laurent bit his lip into his mouth. ‘Sorry. Why are you…’

Damen shrugged, a small smile on his face. ‘I like talking to people. I like working here. It’s my calling, or something. Your boyfriend’s trying to steal yours, I take it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So?’ Damen prodded. ‘What is it?’

‘You’re going to think I’m a nerd.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’

Laurent smiled. ‘Heritage and museum studies.’

‘Oh shit, really?’ Damen said. ‘That’s so cool! That’s why you want to go to all our museums? We have some awesome stuff and a bunch of special exhibitions on at the moment. I think the old palace is doing an exhibition of Akielon court clothing through the centuries.’

Laurent laughed. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘I – yeah, sorry, of course you do.’ Damen turned sharply to the kitchen at a shout of his name and he smiled before darting to the window and bringing a plate back. ‘Here you go.’

Laurent inhaled sharply at the smell of the food. Whatever that chicken was covered in? ‘This smells so good,’ Laurent said, just looking at the plate for a moment.

‘Well, thanks,’ Damen said. ‘Designed the menu myself.’

‘Aren’t you a bartender?’

‘I’m a bartender today,’ Damen laughed. ‘Chef by trade. Try the chicken.’

Laurent took the knife and fork Damen handed him and cut into it. The first bite was by far the best thing that had happened to him in Ios on his trip so far. ‘Oh, holy shit, that’s incredible.’

‘Right?’

‘You have a very high opinion of yourself.’

‘Are you telling me it’s not well deserved?’

Laurent made a noise. ‘Go do your job, I’m not talking again until I finish this.’

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Damen winked, heading to the other end of the bar.

Laurent watched him as he ate. Damen was clearly good at his job – making the other patrons laugh, doing fancy little tricks with the bottles and producing drinks that looked picture perfect. And this food? Delicious. Laurent would stay here and eat nothing _but_ this while he was in Ios, if he thought he could get away with it.

‘I notice your plate is clean,’ Damen said, reappearing as soon as Laurent finished his food. ‘So. Talk to me.’

‘Shouldn’t you be working?’

‘It’s a quiet night. There are other people here. Talk to me.’

‘About what?’

Damen shrugged. ‘Anything.’

Laurent looked him over, eyes lingering on the stretched material of Damen’s thin black shirt. ‘Well, you’re a bartender, and I’m complaining about my life. Should I continue?’

‘Go for it.’

‘Okay. Give me your thoughts on something.’

‘Sure.’

‘Do you think I’m lovable?’

Damen opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. ‘I don’t know if I can answer that.’

Laurent hummed. ‘Despite that I don’t really want to date my boyfriend, or like, have to talk to him again, I wonder if I should just stick with him and put up with it because it took me so long to find him in the first place.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m… I like things a certain way. I’m not the easiest person to deal with because I’m emotionally stunted or whatever.’

‘Did he tell you that?’

Laurent blinked. ‘I… yes.’

Damen nodded sagely. ‘Have you considered that you’re not emotionally stunted and you actually just don’t like him and maybe never have?’

‘…Oh.’

‘If he was the first person who ever took an interest – which I find hard to believe, by the way – then maybe you just latched onto him and now you don’t remember what it’s like to have the possibility of the love of anyone, instead of just knowing him and his and resenting him for it.’

‘I never thought of it like that. I did like him, you know. At the start. He was nice, it was easy and gentle and… I hadn’t had someone’s attention before.’

‘Laurent,’ Damen said, and Laurent loved the way his name sounded coming from Damen. ‘I promise, you have the _attention_ of at least one person in this bar.’

‘Do I?’ Laurent asked doubtfully. ‘Who?’

Damen raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

_Oh._ ‘Oh,’ he said softly.

‘Can I say something?’

‘I’m not going to stop you.’

‘I know this is very forward of me, especially considering I don’t really know you,’ Damen said, watching Laurent sip his orange juice. ‘But I like you, Laurent, and I think if you didn’t have a boyfriend, I would invite you back to my apartment.’

Laurent sighed. ‘No, that’s –’

‘Inappropriate, I know,’ Damen nodded. ‘And I’m so sorry for it.’

‘No,’ Laurent said quietly. ‘I was going to say that’s not too forward of you at all.’

Damen looked up from where he’d been wiping at something behind the bar, probably trying to hide from Laurent. ‘It’s not?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Laurent gave a rueful smile. ‘What’s too forward is me saying if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d say yes.’

‘You would?’

Laurent huffed and swirled his straw around his mostly empty glass again. ‘Aside from being one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen in my life, it’s also been a long time since someone has shown an interest in me and my… interests.’

‘You’re an interesting person. Anyone who doesn’t think so is missing out.’

Laurent tilted his head and rested it on one hand, elbow propped up on the bar. ‘Damen, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a person who cheats. I never have been, and I don’t want to be, but you make me want to.’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you a little bit drunk, Laurent?’

‘I might be,’ Laurent admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.’

‘Laurent,’ Damen said softly, ‘if you don’t want to cheat, I’m not going to help you change that.’

‘What if I broke up with my boyfriend? I’ll send him a text right now –’

‘You can’t break up with someone over text, especially not when you’re on holiday with them,’ Damen pointed out.

Laurent whined pitifully and – wow okay, maybe he was a little drunk. ‘I don’t really drink that much.’

‘Yeah, no, I can tell,’ Damen said gently.

‘I don’t want to talk to my boyfriend.’

‘You’re gonna have to, purely for your own sake.’

‘Fuck,’ Laurent groaned, slipping off the barstool to stand. ‘Okay. While I’m tipsy enough to be confident. How much do I owe you?’

Damen shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about it. Consider it my pre-break up gift to you.’

‘What if I don’t break up with him yet?’

‘Then I still got to have a conversation with you, and it’s been the highlight of my night so far.’

Laurent bit his lip. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Completely. Go get your freedom, Laurent. Or not. But if you need more alcohol at the end of it, you know where to find me.’

Laurent smiled. ‘Thank you, Damen.’

‘You can do this. It’ll be okay.’

‘I know. I hope so.’

‘It will,’ Damen said confidently. ‘But like I said, I have a lot of alcohol, and we’re open until one, so you have a lot of time.’

‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’

‘I’ve got this.’

‘You’ve got this,’ Damen agreed.

Laurent took a deep breath. ‘Thank you for everything.’

‘No problem.’

Laurent nodded and turned on his heel determinedly, leaving the restaurant and heading down the street back to his hotel. He only had a few minutes to make a plan for this, and he was half considering going back to Damen to workshop one. He wouldn’t, though. That might be a little much of Laurent’s neuroses for Damen to handle.

Laurent had formed most of a plan by the time he got to the hotel. He would book himself a new room straight away – one on a different floor – then go upstairs, break up with Torveld as nicely as he could, pack his things away, and go to his new room. Then maybe go back down to see Damen and let him know how it went.

Damen.

Laurent let out a deep sigh at the thought of him. It had definitely been too forward of him to admit he would spend the night with Damen, even worse of him to admit he wanted to cheat on Torveld with him – but that was what this was, wasn’t it? He didn’t care if Torveld got hurt if it meant he could see what was under that very tight shirt of Damen’s.

Or, honestly, under any tight shirt of any eligible men that weren’t Torveld.

‘Hi, can I help you?’

Laurent blinked, not having realised he’d already come to the front desk. ‘Hi,’ he said, shaking his head a little. ‘I’m currently staying in room 1204 with my boyfriend, but I’m going to need a separate room, preferably on a different floor.’

‘Sure,’ the receptionist said, typing something and clicking a few times on her computer. ‘We can have you switched to a room on the fourteenth floor, if that’s more to your taste? It’s still a luxury suite, so the rate won’t change –’

‘No, no,’ Laurent interrupted gently. ‘He’ll be staying in that room, but I would like my own.’

‘Ah,’ the receptionist pursed her lips. ‘Okay. If you want, I can move you further up to the seventeenth floor to a more expensive luxury suite, or lower down to a room of your current calibre on the sixth floor.’

‘I’ll take the seventeenth floor,’ Laurent said, slipping his wallet from his back pocket. ‘Is it possible for you to refund the payment for the current room and I’ll pay for that as well?’

‘Unfortunately not, that room was booked on a limited time offer.’

Laurent nodded. ‘That’s fine. Can I also extend the date to the… eighth? I think he’s booked in until the sixth.’

‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘I’ll just grab your details…’

Laurent nodded and they moved quickly through his information, ending with him being slipped a key for a suite on the seventeenth floor. As he made his way to the elevator, he sent a quick text to Auguste to let him know he was extending his stay and his plants better still be alive when he got back. Inside the elevator, Laurent took what felt like the world’s slowest ride up to the twelfth floor.

Once there, all he had to do was get to his room and talk to Torveld.

He took a moment to steel himself before he went into the room, taking a deep breath and praying Torveld wouldn’t be there, even though he knew that was likely a pointless exercise.

‘You’re back.’

_Fuck._ Laurent closed the door behind himself and put the key on the desk, as he ignored Torveld on the bed and went to the bathroom to pack his toiletries away.

‘Laurent.’ Torveld was watching him from the door. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Packing,’ Laurent muttered, pushing past and dropping the bag in his open suitcase, before he went to the wardrobe and yanked his things off the hangers.

‘I can see that,’ Torveld said, sounding amused. ‘Why?’

‘I’m leaving.’

‘Leaving? But you said you always wanted to come to Ios.’

‘I didn’t say I was leaving Ios,’ Laurent said, zipping closed his suitcase and pulling it upright as he turned to face Torveld. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Torveld had been frowning when Laurent looked at him for the first time, and it deepened at his words. ‘Do what?’

‘This,’ Laurent waved a hand between them. ‘Us.’

‘You –’ Torveld laughed darkly. ‘You’re joking, right? I organised this expensive holiday for you as a gift, and you’re breaking up with me on the second night?’

‘I hope you didn’t book any activities you can’t get refunded for,’ Laurent said levelly. ‘I’m sorry, okay? I am. I really tried, Torveld.’

‘Tried what?’ Torveld’s tone became softer. ‘Laurent, baby, please, we can work through this.’

‘Don’t call me baby again.’

Torveld sighed, pushing his hands through his hair. ‘I put so much effort into you, into _us_. Is there no way you can –’

‘No,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘No. There’s no way. I can’t.’

‘Why not? What did I do wrong? Have I ever done wrong by you?’

‘I think you can answer that.’

‘Are you breaking up with me because I don’t think you should go to grad school?’ Torveld asked, quickly cycling through bastardised stages of grief, now onto some form of disbelief. ‘Baby –’

‘I said, _don’t_ call me baby,’ Laurent gritted out. ‘The fact that you don’t want me to go to grad school is just one thing of so many. I shouldn’t have to fake an illness so we won’t have to fuck. I shouldn’t be seeing condoms in your toiletries and feeling like I’ll throw up. I shouldn’t be daydreaming about going home to an empty apartment.’

‘What are you saying?’ Torveld asked, sounding and looking so very wounded.

‘I’m saying the smell of your cologne disgusts me. I’m saying I don’t want your hands on me, and I’ve come to a breaking point where I just can’t do this anymore.’

A muscle in Torveld’s jaw twitched as he folded his arms over his chest. ‘I disgust you.’

‘I wish there was a nicer way to put it.’

‘Clearly you don’t, or you would’ve found it. You’ve always been so good with words, Laurent.’

‘Have I? Funny how whenever we fight, they never seem to hit their mark.’

‘You only fight with me because you like the aftermath.’

‘The aftermath?’

‘You like to feel like you’ve hurt me, like you’re in control of the situation.’

Laurent let out a deep breath and nodded slowly. ‘Right, yeah, I forget how you like to control _situations_ by holding my hair like a pair of reins, like I’m a fucking _horse_.’

‘But you like that.’

‘I’ve never liked that.’

Torveld looked genuinely surprised. ‘I thought –’

‘That what, my protests were only token?’ Laurent rolled his eyes. ‘Even you can’t be that blind. I can’t – I don’t want to give over control of my body like that. Not to anyone.’

Torveld nodded once. ‘I apologise for that, then.’

‘Damn right you do,’ Laurent said coldly, grabbing the handle of his suitcase. ‘I’m not going home with you. Auguste will be there to meet you at my apartment. Take your things and never speak to me again.’

Torveld laughed in disbelief. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Why not?’

‘You and I both know that no one is ever going to love you the way I do,’ Torveld said, smiling like he’d won something. ‘You were hard to love to begin with, and now you’re just… damaged.’

‘Maybe, but you were the one that chipped my edges,’ Laurent said, going slowly to the bed and taking his pyjamas from where they were folded neatly in front of his pillow. ‘And I hope no one ever loves me like you did. I hope they love me like they should, and like I deserve.’

Laurent clutched his pyjamas to his chest as he made his way to the door, pausing to open it, as Torveld laughed behind him.

‘I’ll pretend we never had this talk if you turn around right now. We can go back to how things were, Laurent. Are you willing to risk being alone forever?’

Laurent swallowed hard. He’d been asking himself that same question for weeks, and he thought he finally had an answer. Without turning around, he said, ‘I’d rather be alone than with you,’ before he left and pulled the door shut.

***

Laurent didn’t know what to do when he got to his suite. _His_ suite. The one he was staying in alone. By himself. On the seventeenth floor, with even better views of the ocean, and a bed that didn’t smell like Torveld.

He called Auguste.

‘Hey,’ Auguste said, as Laurent’s screen blinked from black to Auguste’s too-close face. ‘What’s up?’

‘I don’t know why I’m video-calling you,’ Laurent said.

‘You’re pacing,’ Auguste noted. ‘What did you do?’

‘I broke up with Torveld.’

‘Wait, seriously? You did it?’

‘I did it.’

‘Holy shit, good job.’

‘Don’t know if you should be congratulating me for it.’

‘Well, I am,’ Auguste tilted his head a little as he pulled the phone a little further away. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m… I don’t know. I suppose,’ Laurent frowned. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘Sure. Apart from meeting Torveld at your apartment, I assume.’

‘Yeah, apart from that,’ Laurent confirmed. ‘Can you… could you strip my bed? Please?’

‘Huh?’

‘Take off my sheets.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they smell like Torveld and the smell of him makes me feel sick, and I don’t want to have to deal with that when I get home, so can you just strip my bed?’ Laurent said in a rush. ‘Please?’

‘I… yeah,’ Auguste said. ‘Of course. They’re not, like – _gross_ , are they?’

‘No, I cleaned them before we left,’ Laurent rolled his eyes. ‘He just… gets everywhere. He changed the detergent so now all my stuff smells like that overly perfumed stuff he likes.’

‘Ah,’ Auguste nodded. ‘Okay. Yeah, I’ll deal with it.’

‘Thanks.’ Laurent stood there in silence for a moment, before he headed out onto his balcony. ‘Not a great start to a holiday, huh?’

‘Not the best,’ Auguste agreed. ‘What are you going to do now?’

Laurent’s eyes drifted down to the streets below the hotel. _We’re open until one. I would invite you back to my apartment. If I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d say yes._ ‘I’m going out,’ he said softly.

‘Out? You hate going out.’

‘I have… a date.’

‘Fuck, already? Torveld’s not even cold and you’re on Grindr?’

‘I’m _not_ on Grindr. I… found a bartender.’

‘A bartender?’ Auguste whistled. ‘That’s a fun cliché for you.’

‘Well, he owns the restaurant. We talked and he gave me free food and drinks. He’s…’ Laurent trailed off, thinking about that damn shirt. ‘Very attractive.’

‘And he’s interested in you? What a bonus.’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent said faintly. ‘I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.’

‘Alright, make good choices!’ Auguste said, as Laurent hung up on him unceremoniously.

He looked around his suite and darted into the bathroom, checking his hair; a pointless exercise – it looked the same as it always did. He grabbed his key, and shoved his wallet and phone into his pocket, then made his way as quickly and efficiently back to Damen’s restaurant as he could.

Damen looked surprised to see Laurent so soon, glancing at his watch as Laurent slid onto a stool in front of him. ‘Hey?’ he said cautiously. ‘Need another shot of liquid courage?’

‘I’m free,’ Laurent blurted. ‘Broke up with my boyfriend.’

Damen’s eyebrows shot into his hair. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘Well, shit. Congrats!’

‘Thank you. I think.’

‘Celebratory drinks on me?’ Damen asked, already reaching back for a bottle of vodka.

‘Just orange juice,’ Laurent said, shaking his head at the bottle. ‘Is your offer still open?’

‘My offer?’

‘The one where we were both being very forward?’ Laurent asked, his heart sinking as he suddenly felt very unsure of himself.

And then Damen glanced up from where he’d been filling a glass with ice, and his eyes were sparkling. ‘Oh, _that_ offer.’

‘Don’t leave me hanging here, I –’

‘Laurent,’ Damen interrupted. ‘Hush. Yes. Of course, it is.’

Laurent sighed with relief, taking the juice from Damen as he pushed it forward. ‘Excellent. I’ll be taking advantage of that, if you’re okay with it.’

‘Definitely,’ Damen leaned forward over the bar. ‘I gotta ask you something, though.’

‘Sure.’

‘You didn’t break up with your boyfriend tonight because of me, did you?’

‘What? No. Well. Kind of,’ Laurent hummed thoughtfully. ‘You did provide the alcohol that gave me the…’

‘The boost?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

Damen grinned. ‘If you’re happy to hang out here for an hour or so, the shift I’m covering ends at eleven.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Laurent said. ‘Is there more of that chicken in it for me?’

‘There could be. I actually have some at home. I was planning on making it when I got back, if you aren’t opposed to a… late night snack, I suppose.’

‘You’d cook for me?’

Damen shrugged. ‘If you want more now, then I can arrange that, too.’

‘No, I’ll wait,’ Laurent smiled. ‘I’d like to see you in your natural habitat.’

Damen laughed, and the sound soothed the ache in Laurent’s heart. ‘Okay, sure. I’ll be right back,’ he said, darting down to the end of the bar.

Laurent watched him work for the rest of the shift, doing more of his fancy tricks, shooting very self-satisfied looks to Laurent, who was doing his best not to openly eyeball Damen as he moved around behind the bar. Occasionally, he’d come back to chat with Laurent, but he kept getting pulled away as the bar got busier, as people finished their dinners and drifted across from the restaurant.

At eleven, a new bartender appeared, and Damen spoke quickly to her, before he looked back to Laurent and nodded to the end of the bar.

‘Good to go?’ Laurent asked, as Damen stepped out from around the bar and – oh, he was actually that tall. Laurent assumed the floor was higher up on the other side of the bar.

‘Yep, good to go,’ Damen said. ‘Give me one minute to check in with the kitchens and grab my stuff. I’ll meet you outside?’

‘Okay, sure,’ Laurent nodded.

Damen smiled. ‘’Kay,’ he said. ‘One minute.’

Laurent headed for the door as Damen disappeared somewhere, and stood outside against the limewashed wall, realising how brisk it had actually become. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as he looked up to the sky with a small frown on his face. The stars and moon looked beautiful as ever, and he lost himself for a few moments as he stared at them.

‘They’re clearer the further south you go,’ Damen said softly, appearing at Laurent’s shoulder. ‘Too much light pollution here.’

Laurent hummed and turned to Damen. ‘It’s the same in Arles. You can barely see them some nights, but inland they’re everywhere.’

‘You’re from Arles?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘That’s… quite far from here.’

‘It is,’ Laurent nodded, as Damen lead him down the street, hands tucked into his pockets. ‘Great time to break up with my boyfriend, right?’

‘When it’s time, it’s time,’ Damen shrugged. ‘How did he take it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Laurent said honestly. ‘I don’t know if he believed me.’

Damen glanced sideways at him as they turned down a street. ‘He didn’t believe you? What did you say?’

‘Among other things, I told him he disgusted me, so he told me I’d be alone forever.’

‘What?’

‘He told me I was damaged, and no one would ever love me like he did.’

‘What the fuck?’ Damen said. ‘That doesn’t sound –’

‘Healthy?’ Laurent suggested. ‘Polite?’

‘Yeah, none of the above. He sounds like an asshole.’

Laurent made a noise. ‘He was nice to begin with. He was always _nice_ , but everything else was just wrong. He was always trying to control me – not just the grad school thing, but how I organised my apartment, what laundry detergent I used… things he did during sex.’

Damen was silent for a moment as he stopped at an apartment building and held the door open for Laurent. Inside the elevator, he said quietly, ‘I don’t want to be presumptuous, but if anything happens between us more than late-night chicken, I want you to tell me what you don’t want, because even if this is just one night, I don’t want to be like him towards you.’

Laurent blinked at him, saved having to answer by the doors opening and Damen leading him, once again, down the hall, where he was waved into an apartment. It reminded him of his own – minimalist, with tiled floors and simply painted walls.

Damen flicked on a light in the living room, dumping his jacket on the couch as he walked through to the kitchen, turning on another set in there and heading straight to the fridge. ‘You can take a seat, this won’t be too long,’ he said, nodding to a row of stools on one side of the benchtop.

‘Tell me something about yourself,’ Laurent said eventually, watching Damen work – which was, essentially, just taking out a pan and heating up oil in it.

‘Like what?’ Damen asked, uncovering the chicken and giving it a cursory sniff, before he took something off a shelf beside his stove and sprinkled a little bit into the chicken.

‘I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been doing all the talking tonight. Tell me how you learned to cook.’

Damen smiled, shelving the spice again and leaning his against the bench by the sink to face Laurent. ‘My mother taught me. She was the one who encouraged me to pursue it as a career. My dad wanted me to do something more…’

‘Something more,’ Laurent nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘Family legacy, you know?’

‘Yeah. My brother appeased our parents by becoming a lawyer. I think they’re okay with the path I’ve chosen, but being lawyer sounds more impressive than working in museums.’

‘My brother does construction management,’ Damen sighed. ‘He also does my girlfriends, but that’s… something else.’

Laurent hummed as Damen dumped the bowl of chicken into the pan, creating a loud sizzle. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘For whatever happened with your girlfriend. Can’t be easy if she left you for your brother.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Damen cleared his throat. ‘She didn’t leave me, I left her.’

‘Oh? You knew she was… doing that?’

Damen laughed, grabbing a spatula to shuffle the chicken around. ‘I was out of town for a few weeks and when she told me she was pregnant, she failed to take into account that I wasn’t there for the baby-making. She told me about Kastor and asked me to stay but… it had been going on too long, you know? Maybe once I could’ve forgiven, but she’d been fucking him as long as we’d been dating so…’ Damen trailed off and glanced up. ‘Yeah, good mood killer, huh?’

‘You sound like you need a drink.’

Damen sighed. ‘Yeah, probably. Do you want anything?’

‘Just water is fine, thank you.’

‘You sure?’ Damen asked, going to his fridge. ‘I have juice, beer… sparkling water? Why do I have sparkling water?’

‘You don’t like sparkling water?’

‘No, do you?’

Laurent shrugged. ‘I don’t think I like it, but I’m drinking it until I figure it out. It’s a very masochistic process. I’ll take it off your hands.’

‘Gotcha. Sparkling water,’ Damen said, sliding the bottle over the bench. ‘Need a glass?’

‘Please.’

Damen nodded and grabbed one down from a cupboard beside the fridge, placing it carefully beside the bottle, then turning back and grabbing the juice for himself. ‘Hey, are you opposed to like, a late-night salad? Something lighter to go with the chicken?’

‘Nope, stun me with your culinary talents,’ Laurent said, twisting open the sparkling water to pour himself some.

‘I mean,’ Damen grabbed a bag of pre-washed and cut salad mix from his fridge and dropped it on the bench. ‘Still on board with my culinary talents?’

‘Depends what you’re going to dress it with.’

‘Balsamic vinegar, and probably a few crumbles of feta on top. Thoughts?’

‘Sounds great.’ Laurent took a sip of his water and hummed thoughtfully.

‘You look like you’re enjoying that,’ Damen commented lightly, shuffling the chicken again and getting to work on the salad.

‘Yeah,’ Laurent scowled at the water. ‘I’m oddly fascinated by how much I seem to be on the fence about it.’

Damen hummed. ‘You can have something else, you know. I don’t mind throwing it out.’

‘No,’ Laurent said, slightly too defensively. ‘I’m very against a waste of resources, even if it is sparkling water.’

‘Alright,’ Damen nodded to the stove. ‘Can you come make sure this doesn’t burn while I find some feta?’

‘Sure,’ Laurent said, sliding from his stool and walking tentatively around Damen, where his ass was sticking into the kitchen as he bent to try and find the cheese in his fridge. Laurent made a noise and lightly touched his hip as he moved past, just so Damen wouldn’t back out into him and knock him into anything.

Damen went still under his hand and glanced over at Laurent as he poked the chicken cautiously with the spatula. ‘This kitchen isn’t that small.’

Laurent cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, force of habit. My boyfriend – _ex_ – was the least self-aware person I’ve ever met.’

Damen bit his lip. ‘It’s okay, I don’t mind.’

Laurent rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the grin slowly splitting Damen’s face. ‘You’re just so damn thirsty, aren’t you?’

‘I am, and you’re a tall… _ish_ drink of water, baby.’

Laurent laughed, surprised he didn’t mind the endearment from Damen’s lips. ‘I’m tall, thank you very much.’

Damen stood to his full height and raised an eyebrow. ‘Tall-ish.’

Laurent looked up to him. ‘Fine,’ he said airily. ‘Tall-ish.’

Damen grinned, tossing the feta to the bench as he closed the fridge and rested against the cupboards between it and Laurent. ‘Tell me something about _yourself_ now.’

‘We’ve been talking about nothing _but_ me.’

‘No, we’ve been talking about your ex. Tell me something about you. Tell me why you want to work in museums.’

‘Why do you want to know that?’

‘A job says a lot about someone as a person.’

‘What does being a chef say about you?’ Laurent asked, shuffling the food and handing the spatula to Damen as he came to stand at the stove.

Damen hummed, resting the spatula on the side of the pan. ‘That I’m creative, easily bored, that I like to experience things. That… I can be very measured in my actions, but I don’t mind taking risks. That I like food – _good_ food – and I like to make food for other people, because I care about them.’

‘Oh,’ Laurent said softly. ‘Well. I want to work in museums because I find a lot of comfort in the past, you know? I like being surrounded by things that have history, things that remind us we’re human, and I want to take care of them, because so few people truly appreciate it, let alone want to spend their lives living in the past. History is just… it’s full of _life_ , and I want to give it that life back, I guess.’

‘So, you’re a bit of a romantic,’ Damen translated. ‘You’re a giver, and you give even when you get nothing back, because you don’t expect it. You feel so deeply and feel so much as a human for other humans that you want to preserve everything so something is remembered of us when we’re gone.’

‘I… yeah.’

‘I’m gonna say you’re meticulous,’ Damen continued, watching Laurent carefully. ‘A perfectionist who expects nothing but the same from others, but sometimes you let it slide because you love them. I want to say you’re very protective too, right? Of others but also yourself because you spend so much time guarding other things that you can’t help but guard yourself as well. I think there are reasons for it, though. Maybe you latched onto history because the present wasn’t as inviting.’

Laurent pursed his lips. ‘Hmm.’

‘Sorry, that was – that was too much, that was rude, I’m so sorry –’

‘It’s fine,’ Laurent let out a breath and tucked his hair behind his ear, catching himself partway through the movement. He knew that was one of his bigger tells. ‘I don’t want to bulk up your ego, but that’s… pretty much right.’

Damen glanced away awkwardly and into the pan again. ‘I should really just stop talking sometimes.’

‘No, it’s… refreshing. Torveld – he never spoke plainly like that. He let me figure things out for myself, like why he didn’t want me to… you know.’

‘Yeah,’ Damen sighed. ‘For what it’s worth, I think it’s a very noble pursuit. You’re right that not many people want to spend their lives in museums, and I’m glad there are people like you in the world that do, because humanity would be pretty much lost without you, both literally and figuratively.’

Laurent smiled, ducking his head a little. ‘Are we now onto the part of the evening where you ply me with compliments?’

‘We could be,’ Damen said, sounding considerably more confident again. ‘Would you like me to compliment you, as I stand here at a pan of chicken, probably about to smell like feta and vinegar?’

Laurent openly laughed. He was doing that a lot around Damen. ‘Arguably the best way _to_ be complimented.’

‘Am I allowed to be forward?’

‘Damen,’ Laurent said fondly. ‘I’m in your apartment, I’ve just broken up with my boyfriend, and we’re both very clear on where this evening is headed. You can be as forward as you like.’

‘Well,’ Damen placed a large, warm hand on Laurent’s hip as he slid around him to the sink to wash his hands. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes,’ Damen pulled a bowl out and started on the salad. ‘Your eyes are the most gorgeous shade of blue, and your hair looks incredibly soft.’

‘Oh?’

‘And your hands,’ Damen let out a shaky breath, glancing to where Laurent had one hand on the pan handle and another on the spatula as he moved it around. ‘Gods help me.’

‘Anything else?’ Laurent asked slyly.

‘Nothing I can say and still in good faith tell you we’ll be having this food any time soon.’

‘Oh, I am _intrigued_. One more thing.’

‘Laurent,’ Damen said, and it sounded a little like a warning. ‘I have very low impulse control, so unless you want feta cheese all over your… well-fitting slacks, you’re gonna need to either give me a moment or let this one go.’

‘I’ve decided to spend my life working with historical objects, Damen. I don’t let anything go.’

‘So a moment it is?’

‘How about I give you a few compliments while you finish up with that cheese?’

‘That sounds very dangerous.’

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Laurent started slowly, ‘of this shirt for most of the night.’

‘My shirt,’ Damen said flatly.

‘It’s very tight, you see,’ Laurent continued. ‘Your arms look like you could carry me anywhere, and I think your pants are doing _wonders_ for your ass.’

‘Is that why you touched it before?’

‘A happy coincidence.’

‘Uh huh. So, my arms and my ass?’

‘I realise you haven’t spent as much time around my ex as me, so this might not seem as much of a compliment as it is, but you look like you’d be on the other end of the scale to him in terms of the bedroom.’

‘Oh?’ Damen asked, washing his hands and putting the rest of the feta in the fridge, leaning his back against it and trapping his arms behind himself. ‘I’m guessing you’re putting him at zero to my assumed ten?’

‘Not even that, just…’ Laurent turned and eyed him pointedly over his shoulder. ‘You’re very… large, and I hope you are everywhere in proportion.’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘That certainly is forward of you.’

‘Am I wrong?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

Laurent put the spatula down again as he turned properly to Damen. ‘Can you promise me something?’

‘Depends what.’

‘Tonight, if nothing else, I need you to at least fuck me well.’

‘Well?’ Damen asked, both eyebrows now shooting towards his hair. ‘Is that it?’

‘Like I said. Opposite ends of the scale.’

‘The bar is so much lower than I expected,’ Damen said, almost to himself. ‘Yes. I can promise I will at least fuck you _well_.’

‘Thank you.’

‘On the topic, and once again to kill the mood, is there anything you don’t want me to do?’

‘Just two things,’ Laurent said, tucking his hair away again. ‘Don’t restrain me with anything other than your hands – if that’s something that ends up happening, and if I tell you to let go, please do that, too.’

‘Okay, no problem. That feels like one and a half things, was there anything else?’

‘Don’t…’ Laurent cleared his throat and pushed down the feeling in his throat. ‘Don’t grab my hair, like don’t… use it as a point of restraint, you know?’

Damen nodded. ‘I can do that.’

Laurent nodded back. ‘Thank you. Was there anything –’

‘For me?’ Damen shook his head. ‘I’m good.’

‘Okay.’

Damen watched him for a moment, before he pushed off the fridge. ‘To clarify,’ he said, stepping forward and slowly reaching to Laurent’s hair, carding his fingers gently through, and tucking a loose strand behind his ear. ‘Is this okay?’

Laurent looked up to Damen, as he continued carefully playing with it. ‘Yeah,’ he said softly, catching Damen’s hand and resting his cheek in his palm. ‘This is okay.’

‘Okay,’ Damen murmured, taking the hint and leaning down to kiss Laurent.

It was tentative, sweet and chaste, as Laurent reached up to cup Damen’s cheek, enjoying the way Damen was rubbing his thumb along his jaw. Laurent shared a trait with Damen, however – no self-control, not when it came to this, it seemed, so the second he found himself opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, he pulled away and stepped back, breathless as a flush rose in his cheeks. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You promised me food.’

Damen’s eyes, first wide with shock, shut as he laughed in relief. ‘I did,’ he agreed. ‘I promised you food. Go sit down, or we’re never going to eat.’

Laurent grinned and rounded the bench to sit again. ‘Sorry,’ he said, watching as Damen got a couple of plates from one of the cupboards. ‘I think I scared you.’

‘You did,’ Damen admitted. ‘But I was the one getting carried away.’

‘I don’t mind, I promise,’ Laurent said, reaching for his sparkling water, just to occupy his hands. ‘I do just really want that chicken.’

Damen bit back a laugh. ‘It’s basically done.’

‘I’m glad, because now I’m looking forward to dessert.’ Laurent grimaced at his own words. ‘Yeah, that was bad. I’m sorry.’

‘That was terrible,’ Damen agreed. ‘I have ice cream if you want actual dessert.’

‘Ice cream at midnight?’ Laurent hummed. ‘I’m in.’

‘Great,’ Damen took the pan off the heat and divvied it up on the plates, setting them down in front of Laurent, before grabbing some cutlery. ‘Dig in, I guess.’

‘Thank you,’ Laurent said, taking his fork and spearing some salad, hovering with it over the plate as he elbowed Damen gently in the ribs. ‘Seriously.’

‘For cooking?’

‘For cooking, for… I don’t know. It’s been a weird night, and you’ve been there for most of it.’

Damen smiled, nudging him back. ‘It’s cool. I’m glad I could help in whatever way I did.’

‘You did, truly. I guess there’s never a great time to break up with someone, and I probably wouldn’t have done it for a while yet if it wasn’t for you.’

‘Why, because you want to get up on this?’ Damen asked, gesturing grandly to himself.

‘That was the least sexy thing you could’ve said –’

‘That sounds like a challenge –’

‘It’s not,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘I promise. But no, not just that, but you gave me some good, bartenderly advice which was exactly what I needed.’

‘Oh,’ Damen said, going straight to stab some chicken. ‘It’s no problem, really. Now, eat before it gets cold.’

Laurent hummed and got stuck into his food. They didn’t talk while they ate, and it only occurred to Laurent as he was swiping his last piece of lettuce through the marinade left behind by the chicken that he’d probably just eaten half of what Damen had planned for himself for dinner. He chewed thoughtfully on the leaf and set his cutlery down. ‘Did I just steal half your dinner?’ he asked.

Damen, who had wolfed his food down and was now checking something on his phone, looked up. ‘No. Well, yeah. Kind of. But it’s cool, it’s not like I have no other food in my house.’

Laurent cleared his throat. ‘Well. Thank you. It was delicious.’

‘Right?’ Damen grinned and stood to collect the plates and rinse them in the sink. ‘Did you still want ice cream?’

‘I’m not opposed to it.’

‘I think I have some vanilla…’ Damen trailed off, yanking open his freezer and humming at the contents.

‘Is that –’

‘That says _nothing_ about me as a person,’ Damen interrupted, apparently knowing exactly what Laurent was suggesting. ‘I just like clean and simple flavours for my ice cream.’

Laurent grinned. ‘Okay, I believe you.’

‘You will,’ Damen winked. ‘I also have some mango sorbet, if that’s more _exciting_ for you.’

‘I’ll take whatever you give me.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Have I mentioned how thirsty you are?’

‘Me thirsty? You were the one going off about my tight pants.’

‘You nearly had a conniption looking at my _hands_.’

‘Okay, look,’ Damen set a tub of mango sorbet on the bench in front of Laurent. ‘It’s not my fault I’m a raging bisexual disaster.’

‘Does that mean it’s mine?’ Laurent asked, tilting his head a little and enjoying the way Damen audibly swallowed.

‘Yes,’ Damen said, coming back to sit beside Laurent, handing him a spoon and cracking into the tub. ‘You’re making it very difficult for me when you’re…’

‘When I’m what? Charming? Having hands?’ Laurent dug his spoon into the sorbet and gestured to himself with it. ‘It’s not my fault I’m so great.’

Damen made a strangled noise. ‘You have a high opinion of yourself.’

‘Are you telling me it’s not well deserved?’ Laurent asked, echoing Damen’s words from earlier in the night. ‘Besides, I think it’s just hitting me that I’m… single. Unattached. Available.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent said, deflating as he stuck the sorbet in his mouth. It was good, and it distracted him from his thoughts for a moment until he swallowed it. ‘What if Torveld is right? What if I never find another person that will love me?’

‘Okay, you’re overthinking it,’ Damen said, swooping in with another spoon of sorbet and sliding it into Laurent’s mouth. ‘He’s in your head, and that’s exactly what he wants. I don’t know him, but I know he’s an asshole. He’s got you thinking all these crazy thoughts that are meant to isolate and alienate you from everyone you like or anyone you _could_ like, so you’ll just keep going back to him, because he’s made you think he’s _safe_ , yeah?’

Laurent frowned. ‘He hasn’t really isolated me, but he’s… in my head like that.’

‘Okay, so you acknowledge that, and you acknowledge that he’s wrong,’ Damen continued, feeding Laurent more sorbet, who kept accepting it, even as he was slightly confused as to why. ‘You’re a good person, you’re an _amazing_ person, and one day, someone is going to love you for you, and not try to change you to fit into their mould of what they want, okay?’

‘Someone is going to love me for me,’ Laurent repeated, watching Damen eat sorbet off their apparently shared spoon. ‘I mean, I _would_ rather be alone than with Torveld, but that doesn’t mean I want to be.’

‘And that’s okay. You don’t need to be alone. Someone will creep out of the woodwork to date you,’ Damen said through a mouth of sorbet. ‘I know I would.’

‘You would?’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘This is kind of a date, isn’t it? Food and flirting.’

‘Well, yeah, but –’

‘Laurent,’ Damen interrupted gently. ‘The only thing that’s stopping me from asking you out properly is that you live in Arles. That’s it.’

‘Is it?’ Laurent asked doubtfully. ‘That I live so far away?’

‘I don’t think jumping directly from one relationship to another is exactly… healthy, either. But yeah, that’s about it.’

‘But you’ll fuck me.’

‘Sex isn’t a relationship,’ Damen pointed out. ‘And besides, Arles isn’t _that_ far.’

‘It’s like, a three-hour flight.’

‘Which is less than four hours. I’d travel a few hours to see you.’

‘See,’ Laurent murmured, digging into the sorbet again. ‘Here you are saying it’s not healthy to jump from one dick to another but you’re saying you’d date me and travel to see me.’

‘I go after things I want,’ Damen shrugged, taking more sorbet as well. ‘I’m encouraging bad behaviour here, you should definitely ignore me.’

‘I don’t think I’ve really been _in_ that relationship for a while now,’ Laurent said after a moment. ‘It’s been a slow death. It’s not really _jumping_ from one relationship to another.’

‘Maybe not, but you should take some time to decide what you want.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you’ve changed your mind? You can just say it, Damen, you don’t need to dance around it.’

‘Oh no,’ Damen said. ‘Haven’t changed my mind, and I won’t.’

‘Good.’

Damen watched Laurent for a few moments, drumming his fingers against the bench as he came to whatever conclusion he’d been searching for. ‘I’m going to have a shower. I don’t think I smell too great at the moment.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow, putting a last spoon of sorbet into his mouth before he pushed the tub towards Damen. ‘I’ll eat the whole thing if you don’t take this from me.’

‘I appreciate it,’ Damen said drily, standing and putting the lid back on before he slid it back into his freezer and dumped their spoons on their plates in the sink. ‘You wanna come?’

‘I could.’

‘Now who’s thirsty?’ Damen rolled his eyes. ‘To the shower.’

_Oops._ ‘With you?’

‘You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, but yeah.’

‘Sure.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent slipped off his stool. ‘Lead the way.’

Damen smiled and headed out of the kitchen, through the living room, and down a short hall.

‘This is a bedroom,’ Laurent said, stopping and staring at the bed.

‘Yes,’ Damen said, from somewhere to the side, pointedly flicking a switch and illuminating an ensuite. ‘It’s on the way to the bathroom.’

Laurent spun around to see Damen lounging in the doorway. ‘Oh. Obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Damen agreed, pulling his shirt off over his head.

Laurent inhaled sharply as he ran his eyes over the lines of Damen’s body. ‘Gods, help me,’ he murmured.

Damen, apparently having heard him, laughed. ‘Weren’t you saying something before about my tight shirt? Wanting to get it off?’

‘Yeah, kind of pictured taking it off myself,’ Laurent said, taking a few steps towards him. ‘Not watching you strip for me. There should at least be music if you’re going to do that.’

Damen hummed thoughtfully. ‘I could.’

‘Wait, no,’ Laurent said quickly. ‘No, don’t. That might – that might make me faint.’

‘Another time, then,’ Damen said, bending to untie his shoes and pull them off in a very attractive manner. ‘Are you just going to stand there and watch me undress?’

‘Oh, I –’ Laurent swallowed loudly as Damen closed the distance between them and started unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Oh.’

Damen slipped his hands into Laurent’s shirt, and his hands felt even better on his skin than Laurent had imagined. He pushed the shirt off Laurent’s shoulders, letting it fall into a pile behind him. ‘We’re a little more even, now.’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent said, toeing off his shoes and nudging them aside.

Damen stepped back and headed into the bathroom, as Laurent head the small _clink_ of him removing his belt – and that was just unfair. ‘Coming?’

Laurent followed him into the bathroom, stepping in right as Damen turned and undid the button of his pants. Damen was apparently making a little more of a show of this article of clothing, shimmying his way from the pants – unless they were just _that_ tight – until he was just there in black boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. Laurent found himself removing his own pants, his brain short-circuiting the second Damen rid himself of his last bit of clothing.

‘How hot do you want the water?’

‘Uh – I… like. Warm?’

‘Warm,’ Damen repeated, stepping behind the glass partition and twisting the dial.

‘Wait,’ Laurent said, watching Damen stick his head under what must still be freezing cold water. ‘Do you have a hair tie?’

‘A hair tie?’

‘Yeah, an elastic, something like that.’

Damen nodded, gesturing to the sink. ‘Top drawer. Should be a whole pack of them.’

‘A whole pack?’ Laurent frowned, finding exactly that when he opened the drawer. ‘Why,’ he asked, twisting his hair into a bun on the crown of his head, ‘do you have a whole pack?’

Damen ran his fingers through his wet curls, smiling as Laurent shed his own underwear and entered the shower. ‘When I broke up with _my_ ex, I had a bit of a rom-com moment and I cut my hair into… this.’

‘Really?’ Laurent asked, intrigued. ‘How long was it before?’

Damen shrugged. ‘A little past my shoulders.’

‘You cut it all off?’

‘I did. Immediate regret,’ Damen sighed. ‘The water’s warm now.’

‘Oh,’ Laurent bit his lip and stepped forward into the spray. He’d already showered today, but there was something about this one that made him feel cleaner than he had in a long time. Maybe it was because he felt like he was washing the last of Torveld off himself. ‘I usually never shower with other people,’ Laurent said, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned around under the water.

‘Not a fan of it?’ Damen asked. ‘You don’t have to –’

‘No,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘I don’t mind. This is nice, it’s just… I always shower to get away from my ex.’

‘And you were willing to stick with him for a bit longer?’

‘Yeah, really not selling our relationship, am I?’

Damen laughed, grabbing a shampoo bar from a shelf and starting to lather his hair. ‘You don’t need to convince anyone anymore.’

‘Good, it was starting to get tiring.’

‘How long were you together? Am I allowed to ask?’

‘You can. It was… a little over two years. The trip was a combined graduation and anniversary present.’

Damen stopped, putting the shampoo bar back in its dish and looked to Laurent. ‘You broke up on an anniversary trip?’

‘Look, it’s not ideal timing, but it’s also his fault he didn’t seem to understand things were coming to an end.’

Damen made a noise and went back to his hair. ‘That’s fair. He looked older than you as well, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent blushed, still idly rubbing his skin under the water. ‘There was a… significant gap. He’s closer to forty than thirty.’

‘And you’re closer to twenty than thirty?’

‘Yep.’

‘That kind of generational gap can’t have helped,’ Damen said, turning around to rinse his hair.

‘It didn’t.’

Damen came out of the water, pushing it back from his face. ‘There’s soap and shower gel here if you want to actually use something, by the way.’

‘Oh,’ Laurent slipped past and grabbed a small bottle from the shelf, popping the top to give it a sniff, before he pulled back to read the label. More Akielon. ‘Basil and lemon?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Are you trying to season me like a meal?’

‘More like a snack,’ Damen winked. ‘I think the other one is mint and cucumber.’

‘Just can’t get away from the food, huh?’

‘I live and breathe it.’

‘I can tell,’ Laurent said drily.

They washed in a comfortable silence, Damen finishing up with his hair and a gently perfumed soap as Laurent just stood under the water and let it wash him free of the last few, torturous months with Torveld. Damen did make him laugh by smothering cleanser on his face and catching Laurent off guard with it, but other than that, it was a very… _peaceful_ experience.

When there was nothing left to do, Damen shut off the water and disappeared for a moment, coming back with a pair of towels. They were huge and fluffy, and Laurent was almost disappointed he was going to end up out of it in a few short minutes.

Or maybe not.

‘Come sit,’ Damen said, flopping onto his bed and patting the space beside him.

‘Why does this feel like a therapy session?’ Laurent asked suspiciously.

‘Does it?’ Damen was lying on his side, propped up on an arm, and tilted his head as Laurent sat against the headboard. ‘Have you fucked your therapist?’

‘No, and I’m not planning to start.’

‘Good thing I wasn’t going to have a deep and meaningful conversation with you.’

‘You weren’t?’

‘No. We can start standing, if you want?’

‘I –’

‘Wait,’ Damen held up a finger and narrowed his eyes. ‘Is your ringtone… the _Kill Bill_ sirens?’

Laurent groaned, tipping his head back. ‘Fuck.’

‘What is it? And why is it so loud?’

‘It’s in my pocket,’ Laurent said, climbing off the bed and rummaging around his pants. He pulled his phone out and answered without looking at the screen. Only one person had that ringtone. ‘What do you want?’

‘Where are you?’ Torveld asked. ‘I was expecting you to be back by now.’

Laurent laughed in disbelief. ‘Did you miss the part where I broke up with you?’

‘I didn’t think you were serious.’

‘You didn’t think I was _serious_?’

‘Okay, now you’re getting upset,’ Torveld said, in that voice that Laurent could pick out as his _you’re being dramatic_ voice.

‘You have no reason to be calling me,’ Laurent said, watching as Damen stood and walked over, the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. ‘We’re broken up. Not together.’

_Do you want me to talk to him?_ Damen mouthed.

Laurent shook his head, holding up a finger as Torveld said something else. ‘What?’

‘I _said_ , I’ll take you back if you come back right now. We can put all this behind us.’

Laurent groaned. ‘No. I don’t want to do that. I want to hang up on you.’

‘Why?’ Torveld asked. ‘You can’t be doing anything more interesting right now.’

Laurent took a deep breath and turned the phone onto speaker, holding it to Damen. _‘He thinks I’m not doing anything interesting,’_ he murmured in Akielon.

Damen grinned. ‘Hi,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Who’s this?’

‘This is Torveld, Laurent’s boyfriend. Who’s this?’

‘This is Damen, Laurent’s boyfriend.’

Laurent bit back a laugh. _‘You can’t say that.’_

_‘Why not?’_ Damen asked. _‘Maybe it’s true.’_

‘Okay, I don’t speak Akielon, so you need to stop that,’ Torveld said. It sounded like he was getting angry. How fun.

‘Look,’ Damen said. ‘Laurent doesn’t want to be with you anymore, he’s been very clear on it. You need to stop harassing him.’

‘I’m – _harassing_?’ Torveld repeated. ‘I’m not harassing him! I’m giving him one last chance to come back to me.’

‘Sounds like you need him more than he needs you,’ Damen said simply. ‘He doesn’t want you anymore.’

‘And what exactly does he want? You?’

‘Well, we’re naked and about to fuck, so yeah, I’d say so.’

Torveld spluttered on the other end of the line for so long, Laurent turned the phone back to himself and say happily. ‘Goodbye, Torveld,’ before hanging up.

‘Was that too much?’ Damen asked, as Laurent dropped his phone onto his clothes. ‘That might’ve been too much. He sounded like he was having a fit.’

‘I don’t think I care,’ Laurent said, placing one hand lightly on Damen’s chest, before he went to his toes and kissed him gently. He still tasted like mango sorbet. ‘I think he might have finally got the message.’

Damen leaned down to kiss Laurent back, humming happily. ‘I hope so.’

Laurent reached back to take his hair out as Damen’s hands landed on his waist. ‘I hope so too, because if he calls back, those sirens are really going to add some tension to this.’

Damen chuckled, pushing the towel off Laurent’s waist, as his own conveniently dropped as well. ‘How do you want to do this?’ he asked, running his hands over Laurent’s ass.

‘How do _you_ want to do this?’

In one swift movement, Damen’s hands continued down and grasped Laurent’s thighs, pulling him up to wrap them around his waist. ‘You got me earlier,’ he murmured, turning around and gently lying Laurent on the bed. ‘I’m a bit vanilla.’

Laurent burst into laughter. ‘I _knew_ it.’

Damen grinned, kissing Laurent deeply, then making his way down his chest, kissing his throat, down his sternum and to a nipple, taking it lightly between his teeth for a moment as he continued down, over his stomach and diverting to the inside of Laurent’s thigh. He placed a kiss there, looking up from between Laurent’s legs, almost for –

_Oh._ That _was_ for permission. Laurent swallowed, looking sharply up to the ceiling. ‘I won’t reciprocate, I’m sorry. If that’s what you’re doing this for, I won’t –’ Laurent was cut off as he felt Damen’s mouth on him, first just the head of his cock, tongue swirling around it and licking into the slit, before Damen crossed an arm over Laurent’s hips and moved further down, almost to the base.

‘Oh, Gods help me,’ Laurent moaned. He found himself thinking, oddly, that he was asking for more divine assistance tonight than he ever had with Torveld. The thought made him laugh for a moment, until Damen hollowed his cheeks and drew up the length of his cock.

‘Why are you laughing? I’m not _that_ out of practice.’

‘No,’ Laurent smiled and looked back down to Damen, running a hand through his curls. ‘Just – I’ll tell you later. Now’s not the time.’

‘So it’s not because I’m out of practice?’

‘No, it’s – _fuck_ ,’ Laurent clamped his eyes shut as Damen went back to it, bobbing up and down as the fingers of his free hand came around to tease Laurent’s hole. Laurent didn’t think it could get much better than it was, until Damen paused and hummed around Laurent as he slipped into Damen’s throat. ‘Damen,’ he breathed, ‘Damen, Damen, Damen, I’m going to come if you don’t stop that.’

Damen hummed again, apparently acknowledging this, as he slowly drew back, running his tongue along the underside as his fingers moved to slide over Laurent’s balls. He came off completely for a second, drawing Laurent’s eyes open. Damen’s chin was a mess of spit and precome, and he grinned lasciviously. ‘Come for me,’ he said, voice wrecked.

Laurent tipped his head back as Damen put his mouth on him again, barely containing himself before he came moments later, swallowed down by Damen. Laurent’s chest heaved as Damen pulled off gently, coming back up to lie beside Laurent, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder.

‘How was that?’ Damen asked, rubbing a soothing hand over Laurent’s stomach.

‘I don’t think I’ve come that hard in a long time,’ Laurent said, a little breathless.

‘Really?’

‘Whatever I said earlier about fucking me well,’ Laurent waved a hand in some vague gesture. ‘This was more than what I expected.’

‘Wow, the bar truly could not have been lower, could it?’

‘Like I said _several_ times – opposite ends of the scale.’

‘I didn’t think you meant it, though.’

‘Torveld was the most boring person I’ve ever met in so many ways.’

‘Including sex.’

‘Especially sex.’

Damen nodded. ‘Well, I can promise I’ll at least be better than him.’

‘I have no doubts in your skills,’ Laurent said, leaning up to catch Damen’s lips with his own, feeling the hard line of Damen’s cock against his hip as he rolled to hover over Laurent.

‘One more question,’ Damen murmured.

‘Mm?’

‘Are you okay if I fuck you like this?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay,’ Damen said, rolling off Laurent’s other side and going through the bedside table, dropping a string of condoms on top and tossing lube to the bed.

‘That’s a bit confident, isn’t it?’ Laurent said, eyeing the foil packages.

‘I like to be prepared,’ Damen said simply, tearing one off. ‘I’m not expecting anything.’

‘How about we go once, and then I’ll let you know if you’ll need them.’

‘Deal.’ Damen came back onto the bed and grabbed the lube. ‘Ready?’

‘Go for it,’ Laurent nodded.

‘You don’t need to look like you’re going into battle,’ Damen said, kissing Laurent’s knee as he opened the lube, popping the cap to squirt some on his fingers.

‘I had a good look at you while we were in the shower,’ Laurent said, having a vivid flashback to Damen, dripping wet in the shower, and the length of his dick resting between his thighs. ‘Once more, opposite ends of the scale.’

‘Really?’ Damen asked, intrigued. ‘Am I – do you think...?’

‘I’ll take you just fine, thank you _very_ much,’ Laurent said, affronted, pushing his head up to glare at Damen and dropping quickly back down as he slid a finger into Laurent. ‘Just because I didn’t take it regularly doesn’t mean I _can’t_.’

‘How do you know you can?’

‘Are you fishing for details of my sex life, here?’

‘I have my fingers in your ass, Laurent.’

‘Point,’ Laurent said, smiling despite himself. ‘I have a toy box at home, one Torveld doesn’t know about.’

‘Oh? Tell me more.’

‘That’s where I keep the ones he’d find _intimidating_ , which basically means anything bigger than him. Which isn’t hard.’

‘How big?’

Laurent hummed, enjoying the feeling as Damen added a couple more fingers. ‘That would be telling, wouldn’t it?’

‘So, tell me,’ Damen said, crooking his fingers and making Laurent dig his own into the sheets.

Laurent sighed as Damen withdrew his fingers to roll the condom on himself. ‘Well, the biggest is probably bigger than you.’

‘Size queen, huh?’

‘Shut up.’

Damen grabbed the lube again, putting a little more on his hand to slick himself up. ‘It’s cool,’ he said, shifting a little to line up with Laurent’s hole. ‘I’m not intimidated.’

‘With a cock like that, I don’t think anything could intimidate you.’

‘Ha, ha,’ Damen said flatly, pushing the blunt head of his cock into Laurent, breaching him slowly until the head slipped past his rim.

‘Oh, _gods,_ ’ Laurent gasped, his eyes shutting once again, and his fingers twisting into Damen’s as one of his hands was removed from the sheets and brought up the bed behind his head. The stretch was _beautiful_ , dull and a little painful in the best way as Damen paused for a moment, rocking back before pushing forward again.

‘Fuck, you’re so tight,’ Damen groaned. ‘Look at you, taking me so good.’

‘Shut up,’ Laurent breathed, opening his eyes again to find Damen’s tightly shut, too lost in the feeling. He reached for Damen with his free hand, pulling him down to kiss him filthily, until Damen bottomed out and his hips were flush against the backs of Laurent’s thighs, making him gasp against Damen’s lips.

‘You good?’ Damen asked, resting his forehead against Laurent’s and opening his eyes _finally_.

‘I’m good,’ Laurent nodded. ‘ _Move._ ’

Damen leaned down to kiss him again as he pulled out almost completely, before pushing back in slowly, making Laurent gasp against his lips. He seemed to enjoy pulling low moans from Laurent, as he raked the fingers of his free hand down Damen’s back, holding Damen close as he moved.

Laurent felt fucking _amazing_ with Damen inside him. He’d slept with a fair few people in his life, and while he’d never thought Torveld was amazing – or even particularly _good_ – he’d been better than the others Laurent had tumbled and fumbled in the sheets with. Laurent had expected Damen to put Torveld to shame, but he hadn’t anticipated just how easily. Torveld had always seemed… _distracted_ when they were in bed, but Laurent could feel every bit of Damen’s attention on him.

‘Are you okay if I pick up the pace?’ Damen asked, placing a kiss on Laurent’s throat.

Laurent nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said, turning to catch Damen’s mouth, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and letting go just as fast as Damen did as promised, getting faster and pumping his hips as his free hand travelled down Laurent’s side.

‘Gods, you’re so fucking hot,’ Damen murmured, sliding his hand to Laurent’s calf and hitching it over his own hip. ‘I’m gonna fuck you until you forget your ex.’

‘Who?’ Laurent asked, keening a little embarrassingly as Damen lifted Laurent’s hips a little to fuck into him from a different angle. ‘What was his name?’

‘Who cares?’ Damen asked, leaning in and slipping his tongue into Laurent’s mouth, getting harder and faster as Laurent rewarded him with tiny whimpers.

‘Roll,’ Laurent whispered, breaking away from Damen. ‘Let me on top.’

Damen didn’t need to be told twice and wrapped his arm around Laurent as he twisted in one fluid movement, falling onto his back and staying seated inside Laurent, moving his hands to Laurent’s waist, rubbing his thumbs into the V of his hips as he started grinding in little circles.

Laurent tipped his head back, holding onto Damen’s hands as he rode him, feeling a burn in his thighs as he did what he wanted. ‘He never let me do this,’ Laurent said breathily. ‘He always wanted to control me.’

‘Fuck, he didn’t know what he was missing,’ Damen said, moaning as Laurent clenched his muscles. ‘You take me so well, it feels so good inside you.’

‘You’re lucky you’re hot,’ Laurent sighed, resting his thighs for a moment and rolling his hips against Damen’s. ‘I never let people talk like this to me.’

‘I can stop –’

‘Don’t stop.’

Damen laughed, running his hands up Laurent’s waist. ‘Come here,’ he said, pushing his head up to kiss Laurent again as he moved down, starting to make tiny movements up and down Damen’s cock. ‘I’m gonna make you come,’ he breathed, pressing kisses to Laurent’s neck as he leaned onto his elbows, ‘just from fucking you.’

‘Untouched?’ Laurent hummed. ‘If you think you can.’

‘I can,’ Damen confirmed, pushing Laurent’s hair back over one shoulder. ‘And I will.’

Laurent laughed into Damen’s shoulder, biting the hard muscle sharply and soothing it with his tongue. ‘I want you to.’

‘Did he –’

‘Never,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘Damen?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Flip back.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Damen leaned up, and in some other effortless move, had Laurent on his back again, without losing any rhythm at all.

‘Damen,’ Laurent whispered again, folding his hands around Damen’s neck as he kissed over Laurent’s shoulder. ‘Fuck me harder.’

Wordlessly, Damen changed his thrusts, pulling out and slamming back in, making Laurent cry out and lock his legs around Damen’s hips. He seemed very focussed on leaving his mark on Laurent’s clavicle, and hummed in question at the noise.

‘It’s good, it’s so good,’ Laurent babbled breathlessly. ‘No one’s ever made me feel as good as you do.’

‘No one’s ever felt as good as you,’ Damen replied, looking down between them as his movements got uneven. ‘Fuck, your ass is amazing, look how you stretch around my cock, I could fuck you all day and never get tired.’

‘Gods, I’d let you,’ Laurent gasped, as Damen hit his prostate, then returned to it over and over after noting Laurent’s reaction. ‘Fuck, I’m gonna come.’

‘Do it,’ Damen murmured. ‘Look at me, I want to see you when you come, I want you to see me when I come because of you.’

Laurent hadn’t even realised his eyes were closed, until he opened them to see Damen watching him. His brow was furrowed, but it relaxed a little when Laurent reached up to card his fingers through his hair. ‘Come for me, Damen.’

‘Come with me.’

‘Say it again.’

Damen kissed him deeply once more, nipping Laurent’s lip in an echo of earlier. ‘Come with me,’ he breathed.

Laurent moaned, biting his own lip as he came streaks of white over his own chest, as Damen stilled and let his head fall to Laurent’s shoulder.

Damen’s arms failed, and he fell onto Laurent’s chest, wrapping an arm around him as he pulled them to their sides so he wouldn’t crush Laurent completely. ‘Holy shit,’ he said, chest heaving.

Laurent made a noise of agreement, resting his forehead against Damen’s chest and placing a kiss on his sternum. ‘I don’t want to inflate your ego more than I already have, but…’

‘Mm?’

‘You should keep those other condoms out.’

Damen laughed, pressing his lips to Laurent’s hair. ‘You’ll need to give me a few minutes.’

‘I can wait a few minutes.’

‘Good,’ Damen said, gently taking Laurent’s leg from his hip as he pulled out and sat up for a moment to remove the condom, dropping it to the floor to be dealt with later. He rolled back to his side and propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Laurent as he trailed his fingers over his skin. ‘Can I be forward again?’

Laurent, who had rolled onto his stomach and crossed his arms under his head, hummed as Damen’s fingers dipped into the small of his back. ‘Yeah?’

‘I think you might be the most perfect person I’ve ever met.’

Laurent smiled. ‘Even though I’m getting come all over your sheets?’

‘Sheets can be washed or replaced. I think I’m only ever going to find one of you in my life.’

‘Are you saying I’m your unicorn?’

‘You’re my unicorn.’

‘Because I’m horny?’

Damen laughed at Laurent’s terrible joke. ‘Among other things.’

Laurent turned his face into his arm. ‘I think you might be my unicorn, too.’

‘Do unicorns mate for life?’

‘They’re so rare, maybe they should.’

Damen smiled bringing his hand up to comb his fingers gently through Laurent’s hair. ‘I think I’d be okay with that.’

It had been a long time since Laurent had felt this happy. He’d definitely never been this sated, and he suddenly found himself mentally thanking Torveld for bringing him on this trip. ‘Me too,’ he said softly.

‘You know,’ Damen said slowly. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Arles.’

‘Have you?’

‘Yeah. I’m thinking of maybe opening a restaurant there, bringing some Akielon flavours to the capital of Vere.’

‘You should,’ Laurent agreed.

‘It could take months to organise.’

‘Then it’s a good thing you know someone in Arles with a spare room,’ Laurent said. ‘Or room in their bed, if that’s an option you’d consider.’

‘That’s an option I’d consider,’ Damen murmured, lowering himself from his elbow to kiss Laurent softly, sliding a leg between his thighs and smiling at the sigh it drew from Laurent’s lips. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’

Laurent hummed. ‘Not sure. Why? You want to proposition me again?’

‘I’ll proposition you as many times as you’ll let me, baby,’ Damen said, grinning a little crookedly. ‘I was going to ask if you wanted a tour of the city. We can go to as many museums as you want.’

‘You won’t complain? Torveld always –’

‘I’m not Torveld,’ Damen interrupted gently. ‘I love museums, and I love watching people talk about their passions. You can hit me with all the fun facts you know.’

‘I know a lot of fun facts,’ Laurent warned. ‘You might think I’m joking, but I’m a walking history book.’

‘I love history. I promise I’ll never be bored listening to you talk about it.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

Laurent smiled, finding Damen’s free hand and lacing their fingers together. ‘You truly are a unicorn, and I don’t even know your last name.’

‘Vasileus,’ Damen said. ‘My name’s actually not even Damen.’

‘It’s not?’ Laurent asked, mood quickly shifting to panic.

‘It’s okay, don’t worry,’ Damen said, apparently sensing this. ‘Damen’s a nickname. My name is Damianos.’

‘Oh, thank the gods,’ Laurent said, letting out a shaky laugh. ‘Damianos Vasileus.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Laurent de Vere.’

‘de Vere?’

Laurent yawned. ‘I’m a fancy bitch, I know.’

‘Are you falling asleep on me?’

Laurent hummed. ‘Only a little.’

‘That’s okay, we can nap.’

‘Mm,’ Laurent breathed deeply, settling in Damen’s arms as he moved them both under the covers. ‘Wake me up in a little bit for round two.’

‘Okay,’ Damen murmured. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘Good.’ Laurent shut his eyes, and quickly fell into a better sleep than he had in years.

***

‘He’s not going to show,’ Auguste said, sipping on coffee and leaning back in his chair as next to him, Laurent stared up at the arrivals board. ‘It’s easy to fake a plane ticket.’

‘He’s going to show,’ Laurent said, shooting his brother a look of _what the fuck_. ‘Trust me.’

‘Oh, I trust you,’ Auguste waved a hand. ‘I don’t trust him. Yet.’

‘Well, I do.’

‘Dude, no one moves to another country for someone after only knowing them for a week.’

‘If you’re going to try and drag me for my choices, could you at least do it right?’ Laurent rolled his eyes as _Ios_ on the board switched to landed. ‘We spent a week together, and it’s been two months that we’ve been doing this shitty long-distance thing.’

‘And he’s moving here.’

‘To open a restaurant, yes.’

‘To live with you.’

‘It’s convenient.’

Auguste eyed him, pointedly sipping his coffee and standing when Laurent headed to the arrivals gate. ‘I still don’t think he’s actually coming.’

‘Yeah, I was catfished for a week in person,’ Laurent rolled his eyes. ‘Why are you so negative all the time?’

‘I’m not negative, I’m cautious. There’s a big difference, not that you’d know it, given that you’re letting someone who’s basically a _stranger_ live in your house for however long.’

‘He’s not a stranger,’ Laurent said defensively. ‘I know it was an unconventional way to meet, but I’ve never felt like this with anyone, okay?’

‘Maybe he’s just –’

‘I dare you to finish that sentence.’

‘Laurent, you’re _young_ ,’ Auguste said. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘Okay look, if you’re going to be an asshole about this, you can leave. We’ll get an Uber back to my apartment.’

‘Oh, hell no. I’m not letting you go home with an axe murderer.’

‘He’s not an axe murder.’

‘How do you know?’

Laurent held back the very strong urge to punch his brother. ‘We talk every day. I think I would’ve got an inkling by now.’

‘It’s easy to hide parts of yourself on the internet.’

‘It’s _not_ easy to hide parts of yourself when you’re balls-deep in someone and all your boundaries are down.’

‘Okay, that’s too much information.’

‘Honestly, what did you think we were doing for a week?’

‘Going to museums.’

‘Museums close at night,’ Laurent pointed out. ‘Anyway. I could go into detail, but I won’t. You’ll judge him before you even meet him.’

‘I probably _won’t_ meet him,’ Auguste muttered, taking a deep breath like he was steeling himself as people started coming from the gate. ‘Ready to be disappointed?’

‘I’ve told you, he’s going to be here. He literally sent me a selfie from the plane.’

‘Dude, it could’ve been an old –’

‘Why are you so desperate to think I’ve made a mistake?’

‘I just don’t know how you could be so sure about someone after knowing them for a week.’

‘I’ve known him for more than a week,’ Laurent sighed. ‘We just – we _click_ , so shut up and be supportive.’

‘I’m always supportive. Why do you think I’m here to watch you be disappointed? It’s so I can take you home and shove a tub of ice cream in your hands.’

‘You won’t need to.’

‘Well, just in case,’ Auguste finished off his coffee and dumped the cup in a nearby bin. ‘See? Supportive.’

Laurent shook his head and turned back to the gate. ‘Better. Not great.’

‘Fine, how about this – are you nervous?’

‘To see him? I don’t know,’ Laurent said honestly. Had part of him been questioning if this was a good idea? Well, yeah, but it was only a small part, and it had been forced back into silence every time he and Damen talked, every time he received a selfie, or a text in the middle of the day. Was this moving too fast? Oh, probably. Did Laurent want Auguste voicing his every concern? Definitely not.

Even so, now wasn’t the time to get cold feet. He could always kick Damen out. Not that he thought he would. But he could. If he needed to.

Laurent ran his eyes over a new wave of people coming through, and the second he saw him, he didn’t know why he’d been nervous. ‘There he is,’ he said, nudging Auguste in the ribs. Hard.

‘Ow, fuck,’ Auguste frowned, rubbing his ribs as he looked to where Laurent was pointing. ‘Are you sure that’s him?’

‘Completely,’ Laurent said, stepping forward a little as Damen started looking around the crowd.

He knew the moment Damen spotted him, because a grin split his face and he moved with more purpose to get to the end of the barriers, rounding it and forcing his way through the crowd as Laurent did the same. He wrapped his arms around Laurent as soon as he was within reach, twirling him and earning a giggle for his efforts. ‘Hey,’ he said, setting Laurent back down.

Laurent grinned back up at him. ‘Hey,’ he said softly.

‘Fuck, I missed you.’

‘I’m not surprised, I’m amazing.’

Damen laughed, pressing a kiss to Laurent’s forehead, his nose, and finally his lips. Maybe one a little too indecent, but Laurent certainly didn’t care. ‘Is that your brother?’ Damen asked, after pulling himself away with more strength than Laurent had.

‘Yeah,’ Laurent laced their fingers together and pulled Damen towards where Auguste was watching them, his frown deeper than it had been all day. ‘Damen, Auguste. Auguste, Damen. Told you he’d show.’

‘And I stand corrected,’ Auguste said, holding out a hand for Damen to shake. ‘You’re not an axe murderer, are you?’

‘Only on full moons,’ Damen said, taking his hand. ‘So I’ll probably need to have Laurent tie me up.’

Laurent raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’

‘Oh, we are _not_ going there right now,’ Auguste muttered. ‘I’m going to speed back to your apartment and if I get caught and get a fine, you’re paying it.’

‘Deal,’ Laurent said, pulling out his phone and checking something quickly. ‘Oh, look at that, it’s a full moon tonight. Better drive fast, Auguste.’

Auguste sighed. ‘For fuck’s sake.’

**Author's Note:**

> as usual bc im a slut for self-promotion, you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/daamiaanos) and [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com) :^)


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